


A Brief Talk

by macher



Series: after the end [2]
Category: Scream (Movies)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27634982
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/macher/pseuds/macher
Summary: In all honesty, this isn’t complete, but I just wanted to add this part lol.there isn’t really gore but there is use of a knife, self harm, ect.
Relationships: Billy Loomis & Stu Macher, Billy Loomis/Stu Macher
Series: after the end [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1743442
Comments: 1
Kudos: 26





	A Brief Talk

**Author's Note:**

> In all honesty, this isn’t complete, but I just wanted to add this part lol.  
> there isn’t really gore but there is use of a knife, self harm, ect.

Billy sat on Stu’s bed, looking at his friend who was sitting at his small desk, using a knife to carve and stab at the wood from the surface. If Stu’s so upset why doesn’t he just fucking talk to me..? Oh wait. I won’t let him talk. Billy looks away from the other boy. He’d lost track of how long he was laying there while Stu was zoned out doing his weird shit. 

“Stuart.” Billy mumbles, his eyes moving to look at Stu as his head stays still. So he didn’t seem like he cared all that much. “You’ve got a watch on. What’s the time, man?” 

Stu doesn’t really pay attention, his fingers fumbling against his watch, awkwardly yanking it off of his wrist without even undoing it. He glances to Billy to see where he was before tossing it right at his face, smiling a bit before quickly turning back to the desk, snickering while grabbing his knife and dragging it up from the desk’s surface to his own wrist.

Billy groaned when getting slapped in the face with Stus watch, grabbing it and checking the time before tossing it onto the floor. “Don’t fuckin’ cut yourself- the fuck are you doing?” 

“I’m having fun- same as you fucking with me. Stabbin me n’ cuttin me up.” Stu sort of bites back, emphasizing the ‘g’ sounds when he speaks. 

“I asked for the fucking time not for you to be a bitch n’ make me feel bad.”

“You’ve known I cut my wrists since day one right? I’m not trying to make you feel pity. God knows you can’t-”

“Fuck that’s supposed to mean, asshat?”

“Can’t even have one conversation about feelings without making me feel like a dweeb.” 

Billy raises his voice. “Fine. Want me to have a conversation with you? I will. But I’m saying— we can’t be together.”

“Do you love me?”

“Well- Stu-“

Stu shakes his head at Billy tone as Billy’s voice fades. Stu smiles while he leaves a few red, bleeding cuts on his arm- with a soft hiss under his breath from the pain of cutting over already existent cuts, pulling his sleeve down before moving his now peppered with blood knife away from his own skin. He stands from his chair and slyly heads to the bed, crawling up, going to pin Billy down in a swift but slow motion, putting the blade against Billy’s throat. He bites his lip and giggles to himself as he watches Billy stare up at him, leaning down enough to feel Billy’s face start heating up. As the shorter teen’s breaths became more short and tense he grinned down at him. If either of them were to breathe too hard- or move suddenly- Billy could fucking die. And both of them knew it. Stu’s stare has turned from being full of fun entertainment to being hungry and scary. Intense. His eyes were slightly wider than usual and his pupils were shrunken. His grin would twitch a bit because of how tight his face’s muscles were. Blood seeps through his sweater with a dark red as he nicks at the other’s throat, leaving a small cut, barely breaking his skin, but threatening Billy enough to dig his head back into the mattress, away from the blade. 

“You didn’t answer..”

“Jesus Christ Stuart- yeah. I- sure. I love you.” 

“Good.. sorry. I just got.. scared you’d say no..” Stu gives a genuine enough apology for Billy to forgive him with a roll of the eyes.

Yeah, Stu almost murdered him, but that wasn’t new. They did shit like that more often than some couples would have sex. Mostly Billy, actually— ‘cause Stu was always the one who loved being touched. Billy actually couldn’t help but to grin slightly when he thought about Stu’s weirdness. The way Stu’s eyes were pale so he could see his pupils shrink down. The way Stu would sort of bite his lip when he’d smile like a fucking dumbass. The way his eyebrows would move along with every word he said as if he didn’t already fucking enunciate it too much. The way he’d spit when he spoke while excited. He was so expressive. It was fucking nuts, Billy seeing the oddly sculpted man move his face around— jolting his shoulders along as well, sort of like his eyebrows, moving too much. He was really the only one who got to see Stu like that. Other than that whore Tatum- possibly- but she’s six feet under. Like he said earlier. Billy just admired the odd. And Stuart was definitely odd. He wouldn’t exactly call it head over heels love yet.

“You’re basically already my boyfriend, Billy-boy. I can force it out of you.” It’s unclear if Stu is playing. He’s still on top of billy. The knife hasn’t moved much- if anything, it’s slightly tighter on his throat, pressing more. It stings. Billy wonders for a second if he’s bleeding.

“This isn’t the conversation I had in mind.”

“Well, the only way I thought you’d wanna talk is if I scare the words out of ya”

“You don’t scare me, Stuart Macher.”

“I should,” he mocks. “Billy Loomis.” The knife presses harder as Billy realizes that now he’s bleeding. His eyes follow Stu’s. He watches as Stu stares at his throat, eyes seemingly following down a thin, hot stream of blood trail downs to the light blue sheet. “You should be fucking terrified of me.”

“This is a pretty shit argument for me to want to date you.”

Stu’s head quickly dips down and Billy can’t help to mumble as Stu slowly licks up his blood. “We both know you want to date me. We both know you’re scared too. Can’t we just.. hold hands?” Stu’s voice is suddenly soft. genuine. Billy sighs in releif when Stu tosses the knife to the floor. “No talking about it.. just.. let’s hold hands?”

“Maybe.”

“I’ll take that as a yes.” He rolls off of Billy, laying himself next to the brunette. “Let’s watch something..” Stu mumbles, softly kissing Billy’s neck, licking up his jaw, “Something exotic, baby.” 

Billy’s lip snarls a bit out of instinct before he naturally leans into Stu’s touch, “What’cha feeling?” 

“Mm…” Stu nips at the other’s jaw before answering, “Your choice..” his tongue traces against Billy’s ear before dragging across his cheek. 

“Society. Nothing really useful in that one so we can focus on.. other things..” 

“Good choice.”

~~

The next morning Billy woke up early—5:12 a.m. to be precise, Stu’s arm and leg sloppily wrapped around him, his chin resting in the crook of his neck. Stu was always a cuddler. Billy carefully, and slowly, gets out of the bed, bunching up his pillow and some of the comforter so Stuart could still loosely cling onto something. Then he went to the shower, bathed the last night off, went into Stu’s stuff to take one of his shirts- a dark green sweater with loose fitting sleeves- the way Stu liked. It was fine. He put that and his pants from the last day on. He managed to sneak his way into the kitchen, taking a glass of water and an apple, having that. Then he goes back to Stu’s room, checking the time. 5:42. He sighs, staring down at the boy still on the bed asleep. Billy grumbles a bit before grabbing Stuart’s shoulder, shaking it lightly. 

“Hey, fuckface, wake up.”

“Mm?”

“Get the fuck up.”

Stu mumbles, almost angrily, gripping Billy’s wrist and pulling him down onto the bed with one hard tug. Billy almost laughs, but contains it, staring at Stu. “Twenty more minutes?”

“What’s gotten into you?”

“Love, Billy, you should try it”

“One step at a time, Stu.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Stu wraps an arm around Billy, holding him close.

  
  



End file.
